


Once Burned

by goblin



Category: A Knight's Tale (2001)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-26
Updated: 2002-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblin/pseuds/goblin





	Once Burned

Jocelyn never smiles at me any more, save in innocence. Her innocent smile is useless to me. Her innocent smile leads nowhere as she tells me of Sir Ulrich and how good he is and how brave, and all I hear is praise of the masculinity I do not have. For the only courage I have ever shown was to kiss my lady with far more fervour than I should.

I miss the coquettish smiles she used to bestow on me. And, just to worsen my luck still more, I have become the messenger between Ulrich and herself. I. I, in my false brightness of face and lightness of limb. I, who have held royal hands and kissed royal lips, but do so no longer.

They are a strange band, Sir Ulrich's followers. There is the squire who makes idiot moon-eyes at me; the leaping, snarling redhead; the herald in love with words... and the woman blacksmith.

That is courage. A strange form of courage, to work and get paid despite one's gender, but courage nonetheless. I pass her as she is working one day and she gives me such a look as she hammers the red-hot iron... yet of the metal and her eyes, I know which could burn me more.

It is a delicate situation, however, her travelling with a band of men. For a moment I fear that this lovely blacksmith shares the bed of Ulrich. For then my lady and I would be equally foolish... Or maybe she shares the bed of one of the others. Chaucer, perhaps, or Wat. Although by my eyes, I would say they be more likely to share a bed with each other than with her...

I ask her name. She pauses, this storm cloud of a woman, as if trying to discern whether I am trustworthy enough to be given the knowledge of her identity. Then she answers me, guardedly: "Kate."

"Kate," I repeat softly. It sounds different in my mouth, with my accent. It sounds... mine.

Once burned, twice shy - so the saying goes. But I have been burned and I go back to be burned again.


End file.
